


See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil (Doesn't Mean There Is No Evil)

by syriala



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Protective Peter, Scott is a Bad Friend, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/pseuds/syriala
Summary: Stiles knew that something was wrong. He had a very perceptive eye for evil and things that were going wrong and something in his life was going very wrong. But when neither Scott nor Derek believed him it was up to Peter to keep Stiles safe.





	See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil (Doesn't Mean There Is No Evil)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for domeafavourandmakemefeel. If you tell me your ao3 name, I'll gladly gift this properly to you. I had so much fun working on this, but it got way longer than I thought. I really hope you enjoy this!

Stiles knew that something was wrong. He had a very perceptive eye for evil and things that were going wrong and something in his life was going very wrong.

He could feel eyes on him at almost all times, felt like someone was following him wherever he went, was certain that he was being watched and assessed, but he couldn’t see anyone.

The first time he brought it up with the pack, everyone had been appropriately worried, as they should be. Right until they couldn’t find anyone lurking around, couldn’t even catch a foreign scent or a heartbeat. Scott put someone with Stiles at all times, to keep an eye out, but even when Stiles was sure that he was being watched right this moment, the others couldn’t find a thing and so after the fourth or fifth time Stiles mentioned his concerns, he was mostly met with eyerolls.

Scott attributed it to Stiles’ paranoia, saying that running for his life had contorted Stiles perception of everyday life, especially since it had been quiet and peaceful for months now. Like Stiles was missing the danger.

Stiles wasn’t so sure about that; always catching glimpses of _something_ from the corner of his eyes. He had never looked over his shoulder as often before.

The day Deaton sat with him to talk about PTSD and remnants of the Nogitsune possession Stiles stopped mentioning it. Instead he started to question himself, his sanity, which was even worse, in his opinion. He’d prefer it if someone really was following him instead of his mind playing tricks on him and the prickling feeling of eyes on him never went away.

So Stiles did what he could, still being a spark in training. He performed cleansing rituals, casted protection spells, even dug up a spell that traced leftover possession, but they didn’t reveal anything wrong with him and they didn’t help. The eyes never left him.

“How are you doing, Stiles?” Scott asked at one pack meeting, eyes earnest and obviously worried about Stiles.

Stiles thought he was worried about the wrong thing here, by now he was certain that something was out there, but he had learned not to mention it. Still, it didn’t stop him from being angry at the blasé attitude of his friends.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he told him, brushing Scott’s concern off.

“Are you sure? Do you still see…?” he started but Stiles cut him off.

“I don’t see anything,” he pressed out. It wasn’t even a lie, since he never really saw something. “And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he bitterly asked and turned around, ready to leave.

He had tried to put himself in Scott’s shoes, imagining how he would react if Scott came to him with something that made no sense but in the end Stiles had laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t have to imagine that one. After all, he had been the one to put the whole werewolf thing together.

When he got his bag, he noticed Peter watching him intently and suddenly Stiles was tired.

“What? You got something to say to this, too?” he asked, with a bit of bite to his voice, but Peter seemed unfazed.

“I always found your perception to be amazing,” Peter drawled as an answer and didn’t rise to Stiles anger.

“Pity that it’s failing me then, isn’t it?” Stiles gave back, but instead of a real answer Peter only hummed thoughtfully and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“So it would seem,” Peter said when Stiles was already out of the loft but when he looked back at the other man, he was already gone.

~*~

“What is this?” Stiles asked and lifted his arm, which was now adorned with a new bracelet.

“Protection,” was Peter’s only answer and Stiles took a closer look at the bracelet.

“Are there herbs woven in here?” he asked while poking it.

“Yes.”

“Really forthcoming with the details there,” Stiles snarked and Peter smirked at him. “Why are you giving me this?”

“My nephew and his pups seem to think you might still suffer from the Nogitsune possession.”

“And?” Stiles asked, distrust colouring his voice.

“And,” Peter answered, making it sound like explaining this to Stiles was the most boring thing he had done all week, “if that were the case, someone should probably do something about it. Hence the bracelet.”

“If,” Stiles mumbled and then louder said “You don’t believe that it’s from the Nogitsune.”

“It seems unlikely,” was all Peter said before he left without further explanation.

“Creeper,” Stiles called after him but he also didn’t take the bracelet off.

Not that it seemed to help at all.

~*~

“Scott, I need you to come over,” Stiles said, looking down at his laptop.

“What happened?” he asked, but Stiles could already hear him moving.

“Someone’s been in my room. I need you here now,” he stressed and then hung up before he carefully grabbed his baseball bat.

Someone had been in his room, and Stiles hadn’t checked the rest of the house yet. He didn’t even make it downstairs before he heard Scott from his room.

“Stiles?” he called out and Stiles rushed back.

“Is someone in the house?” he asked, only slightly thrown by Derek and Peter at Scott’s side.

“Not that I can hear,” Peter said, head slightly tilted to one side and Stiles had at least three dog jokes ready, but he refrained from saying anything.

He was slightly touched that all three had shown up.

“What happened?” Derek asked and stalked around the room, obviously sniffing everything and Stiles would be affronted at that, but it was why he had called Scott after all.

“My laptop is open and on,” Stiles said and pointed at his desk.

“And?” Derek questioned and didn’t even manage to hide his annoyance.

“And I never leave it like that,” Stiles told him and turned to Scott. “You know that. I always power it down and I have one password to open it and several password protected files on here. Everything is open, and I just got home. I didn’t touch it.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked and Stiles wanted to tear his hair out.

“Of course I am sure!” he almost yelled and Scott shrugged apologetically.

“I just mean, it can happen, right? Leaving it like that? Maybe you rushed out this morning and simply forgot about it.”

“Scott, my laptop is supposed to power down after a certain amount of inactivity. I haven’t been home since school this morning which is certainly longer than it should take.”

“There’s no foreign scent in here,” Derek finally spoke up and it was exactly what Stiles didn’t want to hear. “Nothing to indicate that someone tampered with your stuff.”

“Great,” Stiles mumbled and Scott grasped his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked and Stiles was so very tired of this question.

“Sure, yeah, I’m fine,” he told him, mostly to make him stop looking at him like that but Scott’s concern was almost overwhelming him.

“I probably just forgot about it like you said. I’m sorry for worrying you, I didn’t sleep well,” he tried to placate him and while Scott seemed to readily eat it up, Peter’s frown only deepened.

“Alright, man. You know you can always call, right?” Scott asked him but he was already on his way to the window again, Derek already outside.

“Yeah, totally,” Stiles said, forcing a smile on his face and watched Scott leave.

Peter didn’t make a move to do the same.

“What?” Stiles asked, ready to be left alone, so that he could freak out in peace. There was no way he forgot his laptop this morning. No way this happened because it slipped his mind. Someone had been in here and Stiles knew it.

“Are you wearing the bracelet?” Peter asked and Stiles held up his arm, bracelet securely wrapped around his wrist.

“Interesting. If you were still experiencing this because of the Nogitsune it should have stopped by now.”

“You don’t say,” Stiles bit out and Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not sleeping well?” he asked and Stiles scoffed.

“You tell me how you sleep when you can feel eyes on you almost all the time,” Stiles told him and turned his back to him. “There really wasn’t anyone in here?” he asked, just to be sure.

After all Peter had more experience than Derek.

“Not that I can tell,” Peter gave back and Stiles turned back around.

“You do that a lot,” he said. “Acting like you believe me. Wording it so that it doesn’t sound like I lost my mind.”

“There are more things out there than even my dear nephew knows. Not all of them can be tracked by conventional methods.”

“So you believe me,” Stiles said, something like relief washing through him.

“I told you before. Your perception is amazing. And you are the clever one. If someone is to be believed when he says something is going on it should be you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at Peter, but he didn’t mean it. Stiles hadn’t noticed how much the disbelief and doubt of his friends had hurt, but having someone tell him now that he believed him took a huge weight of his chest.

Instead of voicing any of that Stiles turned back to his laptop, intent on checking everything to see if something had been tampered with and when he turned around after a few minutes Peter was gone.

“Obviously believing me doesn’t mean he developed any manners,” Stiles mumbled, kind of miffed that Peter had just left without so much of a word, but in the end he shrugged it off.

Stiles was immersed in meticulously checking his notes when something heavy was slammed next to him on the table.

He startled badly, almost falling of his chair with the motion and Peter chuckled.

“What the hell is this?” Stiles demanded to know and pointed at the heavy tome Peter had brought over.

“You are self-studying magic, aren’t you?” he inquired instead of answering Stiles.

“Deaton isn’t willed to teach me. Says it would give me too much power, with what is going on. He doesn’t trust me,” Stiles muttered. “So yeah, I’ve been learning some stuff on my own.”

“Good,” Peter said and he almost sounded proud.

“So what is this?” Stiles asked again, now eyeing the tome more carefully since Peter had brought up magic.

“We’re going to ward your place,” Peter declared and knocked a knuckle on the book. “There are several different wards in here, and we’re going to put up as many as we can. For all different kinds of supernatural creatures.”

Stiles grabbed the book, carefully skimming the pages, and he felt his spirits fall almost as quickly as he could read the words.

“I don’t have any of these ingredients,” he told Peter, reading over the obscure things he would need to put up these wards.

“You have the magic, I have the connections and resources to get whatever else you need. Read through this, make a list of the wards you want and what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Stiles carefully told him.

“No, I don’t,” Peter shrugged in response and suddenly Stiles had to hold back tears.

He was tired, and this was the first time in what felt like forever that someone took him seriously.

Peter looked at him for a second longer before he turned around, obviously ready to leave until Stiles knew what he would need.

Stiles caught his hand before he could go to far.

“Thank you,” he sincerely said, holding Peter’s gaze.

“You’re welcome,” Peter replied and squeezed his hand before he left Stiles room again.

Stiles didn’t waste any time, starting with the book almost immediately. If it kept him save from whatever was happening he would ward his house to hell and back.

~*~

Stiles woke slowly, unwilling to leave sleep behind, but his alarm was blaring, and he really needed to pee.

He was still blinking sleep away when his gaze fell on the wall opposite of his bed and suddenly he was wide awake.

He didn’t dare to turn his eyes away from the sentence, grabbing blindly for his phone and speed dialing Scott.

“Someone was here, while I slept, Scott, you need to come here right now,” he rushed out, already feeling the panic settle into him.

His hands where shaking as he hung up, not listening to Scott’s concerned questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the wall.

_I’m going to take it all from you._

Stiles was still staring at the words when suddenly his magic acted up. There was a warm, burning feeling in his chest indicating that his wards against supernatural creatures were drawing power from him, and a ringing in his ears from the proximity wards telling him that someone was trying to get into the house but Stiles only reacted to it when someone knocked on his window.

Scott was sitting on his windowsill, apparently trying to get in, but the wards prevented him from doing so.

“Are you gonna let us in?” he asked, confused as to why he couldn’t just enter, and Stiles quickly dropped the werewolf wards and deactivated the proximity ones. He didn’t need the constant ringing to distract him. Scott immediately climbed into his room when Stiles gave him the go ahead.

“What happened?” Scott asked him.

Instead of answering Stiles pointed at the wall. When Scott turned around Stiles noticed for the first time that Derek and Peter were with Scott again and while Derek looked slightly annoyed, Peter was frowning.

“Tell us what happened?” Scott gently prodded and Stiles swallowed a few times before he managed to say something.

“I don’t know. I woke up and it was there. I don’t know what happened.” He took a shuddering breath. “But someone was in here, Scott, someone was in my bedroom while I was asleep!”

“What about the wards?” Peter asked and Stiles’ gaze snapped to him.

“I didn’t feel them going off. Nothing happened until you showed up, they didn’t warn me and they clearly didn’t keep whoever it is away,” he harshly said before he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“What wards?” Scott asked him, while Derek only seemed to frown harder.

“Peter brought me a book about wards, and we put them up all over the house, so that no one could get in without me knowing,” Stiles explained and suddenly Scott and Derek were both looking at Peter.

A blink later Derek had Peter pinned to the wall, forearm braced against his throat and lowly growling but Peter didn’t lash out.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, rushing forward to pull Derek away from Peter but of course it wasn’t working.

“What are you up to?” Scott asked Peter who didn’t look away from his nephew.

“Protecting the only valuable member of your little pack,” he gritted out, while Derek only put more pressure on his throat.

“What are you planning?” Derek demanded to know and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Good to know my scheming ways got under your skin, but there really is no nefarious goal to this,” he patiently explained and then pushed Derek away from him, blatantly showing that he had only tolerated his nephews attack.

“Can we get back on track here,” Stiles implored, voice just a bit desperate, because there were more pressing matters at hand.

“None of the wards went off?” Peter asked, outright ignoring Derek’s glare while Scott turned around to the wall again.

“They did when you came by now,” Stiles explained and Peter hummed thoughtfully.

“So at least we know they are working,” he mused and Stiles could feel the panic rise again.

He took some deep breaths, latching on the knowledge that he was safe right now.

“So it’s a human?” Stiles asked when he calmed down, because he had warded his place against everything else.

“The proximity ward?” Peter asked and Stiles could feel his hard-won calm slip away from him again.

“That one’s working, too, the ringing was there when you guys approached,” Stiles rushed out, panic clawing at him again.

He must be losing his mind, it was the only logical explanation. Peter didn’t say anything but he had a considering look on his face while Derek shook his head in annoyance.

“There’s no foreign scent in here, just like last time.”

“So what are you saying?” Stiles challenged him.

“I’m saying that you sleepwalked before,” Derek told him and Stiles suddenly felt cold all over.

“You think it’s the Nogitsune again. You think I’m possessed.”

“It would fit,” Derek explained and pointed at the sentence on the wall. “It could be trying to take over your life.”

“Scott?” Stiles asked, voice wavering because his best friend hadn’t said anything in quite some time.

“I don’t know, Stiles,” Scott finally admitted. “You said you warded this place, and I don’t know how reliable that is if Peter helped you, but obviously nothing came from the outside. There’s no smell, no heartbeat, nothing. I think Derek might not be wrong.”

“We did the spells! Even Deaton had to admit that there is nothing possessing me! I have this stupid bracelet” Stiles yelled while showing off his arm and Scott frowned at him.

“What bracelet?” he asked and reached out to inspect the item in question.

Stiles snatched his arm away, not letting Scott make contact.

“It’s for protection and purification,” he defensively explained and Derek turned back around to Peter.

“Did you give this to him?” he asked, challenge clear in his voice.

“Yes,” was Peter’s only response and Scott groaned.

“Stiles, you cannot trust him! He’s trying to gain your trust to use you, to get to me.”

“He has been nothing but helpful,” Stiles snapped. “Not that I can say the same of you or even Deaton.”

“Has he been teaching you magic?” Derek asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“There’s nothing he can teach me, he doesn’t have magic.”

“But he gave you, what? Books, knowledge?”

“Someone had to,” Peter chimed in and Derek took a threatening step towards him, but Peter was clearly unfazed.

“Stiles, he’s just using you,” Scott tried again and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Right, because teaching him magic, teaching him how to ward his place, how to defend himself is going to aid me in any way.”

“He’s powerful,” Scott tried again.

“And not thanks to you,” Peter gave back and walked over to stand at Stiles side. “Or Deaton, I might add. And even though your druid seems hellbent on the idea, I don’t think possession is what’s going on here.”

“And we’re all about trusting you,” Derek muttered under his breath while Scott asked “What other explanation could there be?”

“You could believe me when I tell you that something is going on!” Stiles yelled at him.

“I do think there’s something going on, I just don’t think it’s what you think,” Scott carefully told him.

“So none of you believe me,” Stiles summed up and Scott and Derek avoided his eyes when he looked at them, but Peter held his gaze. It wasn’t like Stiles was doubting him anyway.

“Fine. I want you to leave,” Stiles pressed out, rage suddenly building in him. “Get out!” he yelled, when they didn’t move.

Scott looked like he wanted to say something but in the end he let Derek drag him out of the room. Only Peter didn’t move.

“What now?” Stiles asked him, suddenly more tired than he should be.

“I think you’re all overlooking the most obvious possibility,” he eventually said and Stiles felt the abrupt urge to smack him in the head.

“Do you really think right now is the time to be a cryptic asshole?” he asked him and wanted to wipe the smug look off Peter’s face.

“What’s the one thing you didn’t ward your place against? The one thing you _can’t_ ward your place against?” Peter asked him and leaned slightly forward. “Think, Stiles.”

Stiles shook his head, ready to tell Peter to just fuck off, but Peter was looking steadily at him and Stiles frowned. He had used every ward in the book he could find, for werewolves and vampires, wendigos and gnomes, and everything else the book offered.

Peter didn’t help him, he just kept watching Stiles, waiting for him to say something and when it finally dawned on Stiles he wanted to smack himself, he felt so stupid.

“Magic users,” he whispered and Peter nodded.

“Exactly.”

“You think it’s a witch or mage or whatever?”

“It could be. It would explain how they got through your wards. They are clearly good, they worked when Scott tried to enter. But if it was a mage they could have disabled them and then returned them to their previous state before they left.”

“Why can’t you smell them?” Stiles asked.

“I’ve heard of scentmasking spells. Heartbeats too. I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult for someone more experienced.”

“If my wards can’t keep me safe, what do we do?” Stiles asked, automatically assuming Peter would help him.

Going by the lack of protest from the other man, he was right.

“If supernatural precautions don’t work, we’ll have to go old school. Set up some traps,” he said and Stiles chuckled.

“You mean like bottles on the windowsill?” he asked and Peter nodded.

“I mean exactly like that. I would guess you know a trick or two.”

“I am the sheriff’s son. What do you take me for?” Stiles asked, while he was mentally running through things he could set up.

“I thought so,” Peter said and motioned for Stiles to get up. “Whatever you’re planning, you are going to barricade your door, too.”

“Aww, you _are_ worried,” Stiles said, trying for a mocking tone, but it fell flat. He was simply too glad that at least someone was worried about him, that someone cared, even though Scott and Derek had installed some doubt in him.

“Of course I am,” Peter honestly gave back and before Stiles could comprehend what Peter was saying he was hit with a pen. “Now get up and let’s get started.”

Peter was already turning on Stiles laptop when Stiles joined him at his desk.

“Why are you really helping me?” Stiles implored.

“My nephew and the true alpha got to you?” Peter asked, apparently trying to lighten the mood, but Stiles wasn’t having it.

“Answer the question,” he demanded and Peter sighed.

“I said it once and it still holds true. I like you, Stiles.”

“So, what? No higher goal here? You’re just helping me out of the goodness of your heart?” Stiles asked and couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“The higher goal is to protect you,” Peter simply gave back, eyes steady on Stiles, and it took the wind right out of Stiles’ argument.

Stiles leaned closer to him, pressing their shoulders together and was surprised when Peter didn’t move away.

“Thank you,” Stiles mumbled, briefly pressing his forehead to his shoulder, and still keeping close to Peter even as he faced towards his laptop again to enter his password.

Peter just hummed and when Stiles glanced at him he saw that Peter was staring at the window, giving Stiles privacy to enter his password. Stiles had never pegged Peter capable of being so considerate and he didn’t quite know what to do with this new knowledge.

They browsed the web for ideas for a few hours before Peter drove them to a hardware store to buy the things they would need, including some paint to get rid of the words on his wall.

It was already getting dark when they finished with the last window, and Stiles was eternally grateful for his dad’s nightshifts. If Stiles took the traps down before he came back, he wouldn’t even notice that something was going on.

When Stiles door was properly barricaded, Peter walked over to the window.

“Don’t forget to put up the wards again, too. They could still be useful,” he told Stiles and he waited until Stiles gave him a firm nod before he dropped out of the window.

Stiles quickly set up the traps there too, before he put up the wards again. He wasn’t sure what good they would to him, but Peter was right. It couldn’t hurt after all.

~*~

The next week was hell, even though nothing happened. Especially because nothing happened.

Stiles dutifully put up the traps and wards every evening but nothing set them off. Stiles dreaded falling asleep because who knew what would happen during the night and he dreaded waking up because who knew what he would find.

But for seven days, nothing. No one tried to break in, no one left any more cryptic messages on his wall, no one even tempered with his stuff anymore.

Stiles could still swear that someone was following him, watching his every step, but they didn’t do anything and it was driving Stiles insane.

Scott had asked about the wards and Peter exactly once and then never brought it up again and Stiles wasn’t willing to discuss it with him anyway. Not if Scott couldn’t understand that Peter was helping Stiles.

Peter was regularly asking Stiles about his suspicions, and he seemed genuinely concerned, though it also somewhat tampered off during those seven days. Stiles couldn’t even blame him. The longer nothing happened, the more he began to question his own sanity again.

That was, right until he woke up from a crash downstairs and a little jingling bell over his bed.

Someone was breaking into his house. Someone the wards didn’t warn him about.

Stiles sat frozen in bed until another crash spurred him into action. He grabbed for his phone with shaking hands and dialed Scott’s number without looking.

“Huh?” came Scott’s sleepy voice over the phone.

“Someone’s breaking in,” Stiles whispered and got up to move closer to the window. Who knew if he had to make a hasty retreat.

“Not this again, Stiles,” Scott groaned. “I have a date with Kira tomorrow, I really don’t have time for this now,” he said and then hung up without even listening to Stiles.

“What the hell,” Stiles said and stared at his phone, not believing what just happened.

A different bell went off, letting Stiles know that whoever was braking in had now entered the kitchen and it got him moving again.

He pulled up Peter’s number, but hesitated over the call button. If Peter brushed him off like Scott did, Stiles didn’t know if he could take it.

In the end the fear of dying by whatever was steadily making its way to him won out and Stiles dialed.

“What,” came Peter’s biting voice over the phone. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of being woken up in the middle of the night.

“Someone’s here,” Stiles told him, and his voice was shaking more than he wanted to admit.

“Are they inside?” Peter asked, suddenly a lot more alert and sounding concerned.

“Yes,” Stiles gave back, and he could hear Peter getting dressed.

“I’m coming over,” Peter told him and Stiles almost sobbed in relief.

“Thank you,” he whispered, right as something bumped against his door. “They are here, at my door,” Stiles told Peter who cursed.

“I’m on my way. Stiles, I need you to lower the wards. I won’t be able to come in if you don’t and they are clearly not working anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I’ll do it now,” Stiles said and then promptly jumped when someone knocked at his door.

“You cannot hide from me,” a male voice said and now Stiles was shaking all over.

“It’s a man,” he told Peter, holding onto the phone and that connection like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

“The wards, Stiles. Now,” Peter ordered and this time Stiles took the time to actually deactivate them all.

“Your dog won’t be able to protect you,” the man at the door said and Stiles pressed closer to the window.

“He knows you’re coming,” he said into the phone and Peter huffed.

“It won’t matter once I got my claws in him,” he replied.

“Please hurry,” Stiles urged him on when the man started to work on the lock of his door.

“I’m already in your street,” came Peter’s reply, right before he hung up on Stiles.

Rationally Stiles knew that it only meant Peter was close, that he would be here any second, but Stiles couldn’t help but panic at the thought that he was well and truly alone now, that no one was coming and that no one even cared enough to believe him.

That thought lasted until his door was flung open and for the first time Stiles could see the person who had been driving him insane for the past two months.

He was just an average guy, nothing remarkable about him, but going by the way he stalked into the room he was more than dangerous.

“Finally,” the guy said and then did something that sparked such an intense pain in Stiles’ head that he doubled over.

“I thought I’d give you more time, let you cultivate your spark before I take it, but all it did was let you get creative, it seems,” the man told him, while Stiles was panting with the pain.

“But now I’m tired of these games.”

The man came forward, and Stiles had no where else to go. He was already backed against the window, not that he could even contemplate jumping out of it with the pain still raging in his head.

“Stiles!” Peter suddenly yelled from downstairs, and Stiles wanted to scold him for announcing his presence like that but all he could feel was relief. Someone had come for him.

The man turned towards the door where Stiles could hear Peter running up and then he was there.

“Your dog won’t do shit,” the man gleefully told him and Stiles watched in confusion as Peter scanned the room before he frowned.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked and Stiles wanted to cry.

Peter couldn’t see him, didn’t even notice him and he wouldn’t be able to protect Stiles.

“I want you to tell him that he came here for nothing,” the man said.

Instead of relaying the message though Stiles panted out a “To your right,” before the pain intensified.

To Peter’s credit he didn’t hesitate and swung his clawed hand out, only for the man to step out of range.

“Tell him,” the man seethed, right before he mumbled something that brought Peter to his knees, clawing at his throat. “Tell him or I’ll kill him too.”

Stiles’ heartrate doubled at that and Peter looked at him, eyes wide.

“He says you came here for nothing,” Stiles panted out, trying to push the pain back but it wasn’t working. Whatever the guy did, Stiles wasn’t strong enough to counteract it.

“He’s going to watch you die and he won’t be able to touch a single hair on my head,” the guy cheerfully went on and then motioned for Stiles to repeat the message.

Stiles dutifully did, hoping that the pain would lessen if he just did what the guy wanted but it wasn’t working.

Peter let out an enraged roar when Stiles dropped to his knees and struggled to his feet.

“I might not be able to touch him,” Peter panted before he lashed out to his right again, “but I can get you out of here,” he finished right before he crashed into Stiles and gathered him up to jump through the window.

Stiles yelled in fear when they fell through the window, but Peter held him securely against his chest and as soon as they were on the ground he started to run.

Stiles clung to him, headache lessening the further he got away from his house and when he looked over Peter’s shoulder he could see the man in his window, face red with rage.

“He didn’t like that very much,” Stiles told Peter who growled.

“I should hope so.”

Peter slowed down when they were several streets away from Stiles’ house and eventually put Stiles on his own two feet.

“How are you?” Peter asked, cradling Stiles’ head in his hand. “What did he do to you?”

“Magical headache, I’d guess. It wasn’t fun. But I’m good now, it’s gone.” Stiles carefully rested his hand on Peter’s throat. “What did he do to _you_?”

“Magical choking, I’d guess,” Peter gave back and Stiles huffed out a laugh but with all the adrenalin receding Stiles started to shake again and Peter pulled him into a hug.

“You’re okay,” he whispered into Stiles’ hair and Stiles clutched at his shirt.

“You came for me,” he choked out and Peter’s hold on him tightened.

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I called Scott first,” Stiles lowly admitted. “He hung up on me.”

Stiles could hear Peter grinding his teeth but he didn’t tightened his grip again.

“I’ve said it before but Scott is not a good alpha and he clearly isn’t a good friend,” Peter said after a long minute of silence and Stiles sighed.

“Can we not right now?” he asked, knowing Peter’s stance on this and to be honest he was too tired to argue with him now.

“Where do you want to go?” Peter asked him and Stiles pulled back a bit.

“Your place?” he questioned, fully aware that Peter had guarded his apartment viciously, but Stiles needed to be somewhere he could feel safe and to his never-ending surprise Peter just nodded.

“Of course. You’ll have to call your dad, too, tell him not to go home. Who knows where that guy went to,” Peter said and Stiles could feel the panic creeping back in at the thought of his dad going home.

“Shh, it’s okay. He’s still at work. We’ll call him long before his shift ends,” Peter reassured him, stroking a hand up and down Stiles’ arm, and it actually managed to calm him down again.

“I know we need to figure out who that guy is and what he’s doing to hide from you, but can we maybe sleep after we called my dad?” Stiles asked, almost swaying on his feet and it was only Peter’s grounding touch that kept him awake at all.

“I think sleep would do you some good,” Peter replied and gently started to steer Stiles along the street.

His hand didn’t leave Stiles’ arm and when Stiles leaned a bit into him, he brought it around his shoulders and kept him close.

It wasn’t long before Stiles started to stumble over his own feet, and Peter picked him up again. Stiles was too tired to care about the fact that Peter had him in a bridal carry so he just rested his head against Peter’s shoulder and held on. He was asleep before they reached the apartment.

~*~

Stiles woke up slowly, which was a first in the last few weeks. He needed a few seconds before he remembered what happened during the night, but before he could freak out, he also remembered that Peter said he would bring him to his apartment and since Stiles was unfamiliar with the sheets he was lying in he figured that was what happened.

So he was safe right now.

Stiles curled tighter into himself, but now that he was awake he couldn’t help but notice the constant clacking of a keyboard, which had no doubt woken him up in the first place.

“What are you doing?” Stiles whined and opened his eyes just wide enough to be able to tab his forehead against Peter’s leg.

Peter was sitting up against the headboard, laptop open in his lap and typing away.

“Good morning to you too,” Peter said without taking his eyes away from whatever it was he was typing.

“You’re too loud,” Stiles complained and Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “What could you even be doing this early in the morning?”

“It’s well past eleven,” Peter informed him and that made Stiles sit up.

“What? Why didn’t you wake me earlier, I have school, my dad….”

“Knows what happens and is in favour of you staying somewhere where you are safe,” Peter interrupted him and finally looked at him.

“I called him last night and he agreed that you should stay out of sight for now. Besides, you needed to sleep. When was the last time you slept more than four hours at once?”

Stiles wrecked his head, but he couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer.

“That’s what I thought,” Peter smugly said and started to type again.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked again and Peter moved the laptop a bit, so that Stiles could see the screen as well.

“Why are you ordering all of this, express delivery nonetheless?” Stiles inquired and felt a bit unsteady at the sum that was displayed.

“I talked to Deaton,” Peter said. “We found the spell the mage is most likely using to hide from us. It’s a warding against supernatural creatures; it hides his scent, heartbeat, voice. Makes him unnoticeable, invisible until it comes to direct contact.”

“So what, we’re doing a counterspell?”

“No,” Peter shook his head. “He would just redo it. Deaton agreed that it wasn’t the best solution but I found something else,” Peter said and twisted to the side to get a book from the nightstand. “Here,” he opened a marked page and presented Stiles with it.

“It’s a talisman. It will negate every cloaking spell aimed at the wearer. The ingredients are coming in later, and you’ll just make three of them so Scott, Derek and I can wear them. It should allow us to see whoever is targeting you. Now we only need to find out what it is exactly he wants.”

“My spark,” Stiles whispered. “He wants my spark.”

“Mh, I know about magic transference spells, but I didn’t know you could steal it. I’ll have to look into that. We should call Deaton again, see if he has heard of this before,” Peter mused and promptly grabbed for his phone.

It was only then that Stiles noticed that Peter was wearing the same clothes as before, whereas Stiles was clad in soft pajama bottoms and a loose-fitting shirt. Peter looked tired and his hair was more disheveled than Stiles had ever seen it.

“You care,” Stiles blurted out and Peter lowered the phone again.

“Of course I care. Someone I couldn’t see attacked. I am not particularly fond of people having the upper hand over me,” Peter explained but Stiles shook his head.

“No, that’s not it. You care, about _me_. You could have slept first, your apartment is safe, but you didn’t. You don’t like Deaton and yet here you already consulted him. And you could be doing this in the living-room but you are here, in the bedroom, where you can keep an eye on me. You _care_ ,” Stiles summed up and then promptly blushed under Peter’s intense stare.

“I don’t know how more obvious I have to get, but yes, Stiles, I care. In case the bracelet, wards and traps weren’t hint enough. I like you, Stiles, and I can’t get more blatant like that.”

Stiles fiddled with the hem of his shirt, unsure what to say to that. Peter was more than attractive; he was clever, and cunning, loyal to those he deemed worthy of it and he could perfectly match Stiles’ sarcasm but Stiles had never really allowed himself to think of Peter as someone approachable.

“You like me in a romantic way,” Stiles stated and he could tell that Peter wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained.

“Yes, Stiles.”

“And if I say that I don’t see you that way….” Stiles unsurely started.

“Then I would still do anything in my power to keep you safe because I care about you as a person. It’s not tied to your reciprocation of my feelings,” Peter explained.

Stiles had been pretty sure that Peter caring for him the way he had wasn’t a means to an end, but it was good to hear it nevertheless.

Stiles could see how he had gravitated towards Peter these past couple of weeks, how he sought out contact with Peter whenever he could and it only now dawned on him how accepting Peter had been.

“And if I say that I do feel the same way?” Stiles asked.

“Then I would kiss you before I call Deaton,” Peter simply said and it left Stiles speechless for a few seconds.

Peter was patiently waiting for his answer, not trying to sway him one way or the other, and in the end it was that which made Stiles decide. It has been a long time since someone had been so accepting of his decisions.

Stiles leaned forward, and while Peter wasn’t taking control of the situation, he did meet him halfway.

It was barely more than a firm press of their lips against each other, but Stiles pulled back before either of them could deepen the kiss.

He did grab for Peter’s arm though, so that he couldn’t pull all the way back and they stayed close like that for a few seconds. In the end it was Peter who pulled away.

“I’ll call Deaton now,” he said, nodding to his phone and Stiles let go of his arm.

He could feel the low-level panic setting in again, same as it had the last weeks, but he didn’t allow it to take over. They had a plan now, it would be fine. Peter wouldn’t let him get hurt.

“We’re going to work it out,” Peter promised him. “I’m going to take care of it.”

Stiles knew what that meant, knew that Peter would kill the guy for Stiles if it came to that and Stiles was strangely fine with it.

“Okay,” he agreed.

Peter leaned in again to press a kiss to his forehead before he rested against the headboard to call Deaton. While he was waiting for the druid to pick up he pulled Stiles close, maneuvering him around so that Stiles could cuddle him while Peter talked to Deaton and Stiles snuggled shamelessly into his side.

Stiles tuned most of the conversation out, almost dozing off with Peter’s warmth seeping into him, but he fought sleep and instead pulled the book with the talisman closer. He needed to learn how to make it anyway, he could start right now.

Stiles was going over the instructions for the third time, vividly picturing how he would have to do it, when Peter nudged him.

“We’re going to Deaton’s. Scott and Derek are meeting us there.”

“I thought Scott had a date,” Stiles bitterly said and Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Is that why he brushed you off last night?” he inquired and Stiles was pretty sure there was the hint of a growl to his voice.

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugged as he got up to get dressed. “Said he was meeting Kira.”

Stiles saw Peter flex his hands out of the corner of his eyes and he felt strangely warm, knowing that Peter was upset on his behalf.

“Come on, let’s get going. I want this over with sooner rather than later,” Stiles said and waited in the doorway for Peter to get up as well.

~*~

When they arrived at Deaton’s Derek and Scott were already there.

“Why are we here?” was the first thing Derek asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Someone broke into my house,” he said, with a pointed look at Scott.

“Again?” Derek wanted to know and he didn’t sound at all like he believed him.

“Yes, Derek, again. Only this time I also saw him, and he wants my spark.”

“Why’s Peter here?” Scott chimed in now and Stiles had the sudden urge to strangle him.

“Because he actually came when I called. He saved me.”

“So you saw whoever broke into Stiles’ house?” Scott asked Peter directly and Peter sighed.

“No, I didn’t. But something was choking me, and since Deaton confirmed the existence of a cloaking spell, I’d guess someone was there.”

“You didn’t see the intruder and someone was magically choking you,” Derek summed up and Stiles could feel his hackles rise.

“What are you implying?”

“You’re practicing magic aren’t you?”

“Derek, maybe you should back off now,” Peter almost growled and Derek raised an eyebrow.

“He wants my spark. This is not made up, Derek, could you please finally start to at least give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“Taking ones’ spark is no easy feat,” Deaton cut in and everyone turned to him. “Magic can be transferred willingly, it’s a  common practice in covens to strengthen the leader, but forcefully taking something as strong as a spark…” Deaton hesitated before he finished. “Would no doubt kill whoever got the spark taken from them.”

“Great, so I’m going to die because of a power hungry asshole.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Peter declared and Scott nodded.

“We won’t let him.”

“Ah, now you believe me,” Stiles mumbled, aware that Scott could still hear him.

“What are our options?” Scott asked with a long look at Stiles.

“You can try to bind his magic, so that he won’t be able to take the spark, but if he is powerful enough he can derail the spell before you are even half done,” Deaton explained. “You can also try to take his magic.”

“But didn’t you just stay forcefully taking magic results in death?” Scott asked and Deaton nodded.

“Yes. But it’s either that or the binding, which will most likely not work.”

“We are not killing anyone,” Scott declared and Stiles threw his hands up.

“Scott, he is trying to kill me, I think the least he deserves it the same treatment.”

Scott turned to him, betrayal clear on his face. “You can’t mean that. We don’t kill people.”

“What do you intent to do then?” Peter asked him, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Please, do tell us your glorious plan.”

“We’ll scare him off,” Derek said and Peter scoffed.

“And how will you do that?”

“We’ll come up with a plan,” Scott assured him. “We can’t even see him yet anyway. Deaton said something about some talismans?” Scott asked and turned to Stiles.

“Yeah, I’ll have to make them. The ingredients should be here…” he looked at Peter for the time.

“This afternoon.”

“I’ll have them ready by tomorrow,” Stiles declared.

“Then we’ll meet again tomorrow,” Scott decided, much to the dismay of Stiles.

“And what am I supposed to do? He already came into my house twice.”

“You were with Peter this night, right? Can’t you stay there again? His place should be safe.”

“It’s always refreshing to see how much you care about the ones you call friends,” Peter drawled and turned away, clearly dismissing Scott.

“What is your problem?” Derek asked and Stiles had enough.

He turned away from Scott and Derek, stepping close to Peter, brushing their shoulders together.

“I want to go home,” Stiles said and Peter sighed. “I need some things.”

“You can’t go home, not as long as I am not able to see him. I won’t be able to keep you safe. Call your dad, tell him to pack a bag. We’ll meet him and give him an update too,” Peter decided and Stiles nodded.

Neither of them looked back when they left the clinic and Stiles tangled their hands together when the door closed behind them.

“Scott won’t allow me to take his magic, even though it would make me stronger and protect me,” Stiles whispered and Peter briefly squeezed his hand.

“Good thing that we don’t need his permission then.”

~*~

Stiles was browsing through the book Peter had showed him earlier while Peter sorted through the herbs he had ordered.

“What are you reading?” Peter eventually asked when Stiles had stopped at one page.

“Can we get sage somewhere?” he asked instead of answering and Peter thoughtfully nodded his head.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to get a hold of. Why?”

“I think I have a plan,” Stiles told him and turned the book around so that Peter could read the page. “Taking his power or binding it won’t work. I’ve seen the spells, they are in the other books you have, and it’s too complicated, especially with how powerful he is.”

“So he took sparks before.”

“I think so. The headache he gave me and choking you? I wouldn’t be able to do both at the same time, especially not with the ease he did it with,” Stiles explained. “It requires a lot of concentration and power especially because you are supernatural and I am magic myself. It’s not easy.”

“What is this going to do then?” Peter asked and pointed at the necklace on the page.

“I’ll infuse it with my magic. Think of it as a storage room. I’ll put my magic in there, and when he attacks you with magic, my magic will interfere, rendering the spell useless. It should work three, maybe four times.”

“And what do you want me to do with this then?” Peter inquired with an amused tilt to his mouth. “I doubt it’s supposed to simply be defensive protection.”

“You know what I want you to do,” Stiles lowly said. “We both know whatever plan Scott will come up with won’t be a permanent solution.”

“So flexible with your morals,” Peter said, but he sounded fond, almost proud and Stiles blushed.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have tried to kill him anyway.”

“He came after you. Of course he has to die,” Peter stated, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel flattered by that,” Stiles admitted and Peter chuckled.

“If you wouldn’t I wouldn’t like you as much,” Peter simply gave back before he got up and came around the table to Stiles.

 “How am I going to recognize him?” Peter asked and came even closer, nudging his way between Stiles legs, forcing Stiles to look up at him.

“That’s where the shopping trip for the sage comes in,” Stiles smiled and held up one of the finished talismans. “We’re going to walk, maybe even shortly drop something off at home and you’re going to pretend like you still can’t see him. He’ll believe he still has the upper hand.”

“How very devious of you,” Peter told him. “I approve.”

And with that he leaned down, catching Stiles’ mouth in a soft kiss. Stiles leaned into it, stretching upwards to get even closer to Peter who slightly chuckled and rested one hand on Stiles’ neck.

“We’ll have time to do this thoroughly later.”

“What, imminent danger turns you off?” Stiles teased, but he also darted up again, to press a fleeting kiss to Peter’s lips.

“Threats on your life do,” Peter gave back and Stiles was still amazed how he had missed Peter’s clear devotion to him.

“You are a total sap,” Stiles happily told him and Peter flicked his cheek.

“I am absolutely not,” he decisively said and Stiles grinned.

“For me, you are,” Stiles said as he got up. “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as well and in this moment Stiles didn’t even care that his life was still in danger. He was happy right where he was.

~*~

His happiness lasted right until they stepped into his street. Stiles knew that the whole purpose of coming out here was so that Peter could see the man who was after him, but it didn’t mean Stiles was any less afraid once that happened.

“He’s here,” Stiles said, grabbing for Peter’s arm, and pointing at the man.

Peter played along well, letting his eyes roam, and saying “What, where? I can’t see him,” before he tugged Stiles closer to himself and slightly behind him.

The man started to walk towards them, and Stiles could feel how his heart started to beat faster.

“He’s coming closer,” he whispered, and he could already see the cruel smile playing around the man’s mouth.

“He won’t get you,” Peter promised and scooped him up, running in the opposite direction.

Peter only set Stiles down when they were halfway to his apartment.

“Did you get his scent?” Stiles asked and Peter nodded.

“He smells similarly to you after you practiced magic. I’ll be able to find him again,” Peter promised.

“Good. Then let’s make the necklace and then we can get this over with,” Stiles said, impatient to get this done so he could get back to his normal life.

Adding the sage to the necklace was a matter of minutes, but transferring his magic into it, and having it stay there was another matter. It took Stiles the better half of the evening before he was certain that he transferred enough power into it to keep Peter safe.

“I’m done,” he declared once he was sure about it.

“It’s rather ugly, wouldn’t you say?” Peter said as he took the necklace from Stiles.

“Sorry I couldn’t take your taste into account,” Stiles snarked back and fastened the necklace around Peter’s neck.

“What a grave oversight from you,” Peter gave back, resting his hands on Stiles’ hips and baring his neck to give Stiles better access.

Stiles was aware of the implications of that, the meaning this gesture held for wolves, and for a second Stiles was overwhelmed with the trust Peter showed him in this moment.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Peter’s neck, right above where the necklace rested and Peter made a sound that sounded almost like purring.

Before Peter could do something though, Stiles stepped back, putting a bit of space between them.

“So what now?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious of his actions.

“Now you sleep. You smell exhausted,” Peter said and smoothed his hand up Stiles’ back.

“I’m not going to sleep alone, in your bed,” Stiles told him.

“Well, then I suppose I better join you,” Peter gave back and started to steer Stiles towards the bedroom.

It barely took them ten minutes before they were under the sheets, turned to each other, but keeping a little bit of distance between them.

“You can sleep, Stiles, nothing won’t happen here,” Peter promised him and even though Stiles knew that the threat was still out there he believed him.

Still, he wanted to stay awake longer but given how much magic he stored into the necklace it was a wonder Stiles stayed awake long enough to even grab for Peter’s hand.

~*~

Stiles woke up when a wave of cold hit his side. He grumbled, turned around, and when he couldn’t find Peter, he even opened his eyes.

Peter was up, and getting dressed, carefully choosing black clothes before he made sure he had the talisman and the necklace.

“Now?” Stiles sleepily asked and Peter turned around to him.

“Go back to sleep, Stiles,” Peter said and finished getting dressed.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Stiles said, worry clear in his voice and Peter came over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and carding a hand through Stiles’ hair.

“I’d rather go alone than take Derek or Scott with me,” he explained.

“I should come,” Stiles mumbled, leaning into the touch.

“Absolutely not,” Peter decidedly said. “I’m not going to put you in danger. And besides, you’re too exhausted anyway. Sleep,” Peter ordered and pulled the sheet up around Stiles.

“Did you just tuck me into bed?” Stiles mumbled and Peter chuckled.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised and got up.

Stiles grabbed his hand before he could get out of reach.

“Be safe and come back to me,” he said and Peter bowed down to kiss his knuckles.

“Of course,” he gave back and then he was out of the door.

Stiles had thought he would stay up until Peter would come back, but he was so exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open and he certainly didn’t remember falling asleep.

The next time Stiles woke it was because of a ringing phone.

Stiles buried his face in the pillow, unwilling to let the ringing get to him, but when Peter behind him made a disgruntled noise he quickly turned around.

“You’re back! Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, frantically checking Peter over for injuries, even though he knew that any injury would have long healed.

“I did,” Peter explained, without opening his eyes. "I woke you up, you checked me over, we went back to sleep.” He opened one eye to look at Stiles. “I wasn’t injured.”

“How did it…” Stiles started but was interrupted by the phone again.

This time Peter stretched over him, answering the phone before he was even lying down again.

“What?” he growled into the phone and Stiles scooted closer to listen to the conversation. It was Scott on the other end.

“I think Derek and I came up with a plan,” Scott told Peter, who rolled his eyes.

“Don’t bother, there’s no need for a plan anymore.”

“What? But the guy is still out there…” Scott started but Peter didn’t let him finish.

“He’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you look at that, I killed him. Upps,” Peter said into the phone right before he hung up on Scott.

“Did you just say ‘Upps’?” Stiles asked, already shaking with laughter.

“What can I say. I’m tired,” Peter gave back, and snuggled back under the covers, pulling Stiles close.

“Did you really kill him?” Stiles asked him and Peter hummed.

“Your necklace was a work of beauty,” he eventually told him and pulled Stiles right into his chest. “And now I want to sleep.”

“Thank you,” Stiles honestly said, and kissed Peter’s jaw, his cheek, his lips, before he rested his forehead against Peter’s. “Thank you for believing me, and thank you for keeping me safe.”

Peter made a sleepy sound and lazily pressed his lips against Stiles’.

“For you, always,” he gave back and Stiles believed him.

There was nothing he had to fear when Peter was at his side.


End file.
